All I Wanted Was You
by words end here
Summary: Nate/Blair, alternative ending to 3x06. Blair's terrified of the distortion of their foursome, but there's no repairing it all now. Second chances are understandable, necessary. Third chances are ridiculous. Oneshot.


**A/N: **So, how cute was Blair subconscious possessiveness over Nate in 3x06? Sure, it's not much, but at this point I'll take what I can get. Oh B. Still not ready to let go _completely_ of the golden boy. Title courtesy of Paramore. Reviews would be lovely, please and thanks.

**I Would Follow You to the Beginning, Just to Relive the Start**

* * *

_Think of me when you're out, when you're out there  
I'll beg you nice from my knees  
When the world treats you way too fairly  
It's a shame I'm a dream  
All I wanted was you  
All I wanted was you_

* * *

She understands completely, without doubt, that this momentary separation with Chuck is just that; momentary. Like so many other aspects of their relationship. The way, when it all started, he momentarily gazed into her eyes and saw straight through her when she decided _well, this is my friend and he wants me, even if Nate doesn't. _The way he momentarily treated her like the Queen she really is (was, she knows) and the way he momentarily appreciates her for what she is.

It is this; she reflects sitting alone at the Tribeca Star bar for drinks this is the complete antithesis to what she and Nate had, were supposed to have. They were supposed to have _always._

But of course, Blair knows all too well about that thin, thin line. The line between what is, and what should have, could have and would have been. How her scheming partner became her boyfriend. How her boyfriend has become a memory, a ghost. Sometimes she just feels like she conjured him up.

She sets down her martini and taps a Laboutin heel against the bar – S was supposed to be here ten minutes ago. She was unaware that Chuck would drive her to drink, but either way they probably would have ended up intoxicated and falling into his bed for make-up sex.

The flurry of gold strides into the bar area, rotating several heads in her wake. She has a look of disregard on her face, a look of just not wanting to be here at all but when B calls S, there are no questions.

"The crisis?" Serena asks flippantly, swiftly ordering a Cosmo after.

"I manipulated Chuck. And now he's pushing me away, S. What the hell is your brother on? Was Bart ever like that with Lily? I don't know where I went wrong –

"Blair," Serena interrupts, "What? I love you, B. And you've always been manipulative." She manages a smile. "You do whatever it takes to get what you want. It's why we love you, because usually what you want is what your friends want too." The blond reaches out to rub Blair's arm reassuringly.

Blair bites her lip. Never, has she ever felt this pang of insecurity, of uncertainty. She and Chuck were in love, and the summer had been all shades of golden, but it was fading faster than she could have anticipated. She likes keeping it fresh for him, after all, they were others toughest critics. Still, she'd like the occasional comfort of knowing he was going to be there when she needed him.

Looking dapper in a metallic grey suit, she can't help but let her head tilt and smile at something that is one of her constants. He illuminates the room, in the same way he always has. Unlike her best friend, it looks like for once he has direction, a purpose. He flashes his ex-girlfriend a quick smile and nonetheless, she downs the rest of her martini to distract from all the other reactions she shouldn't be having, before his stare averts to her best friend.

"Nate," Serena rolls her eyes, clearly in no mood, "Please. I need to be alone for a while."

"Yeah it looks like it." He retorts, trying to grasp eye contact with Serena. He doesn't.

"We're here to deal with me, you're both my bitches, remember?" Blair slices whatever there is between Nate and her best friend, before they chuckle at the throwback to how it all used to be, their glorious threesome owning everywhere they went, with Chuck occasionally being invited along to provide Nate with pot.

"I want to apologise," Blair hears Nate begin. He puts a hand on Serena's upper arm and it severs the three, more than Blair would like. She knows she's selfish in wanting Nate to be here because he'd been talking to Chuck and he would have told him what happened and Nate would have wanted to just be there for her, because being there would be enough. The way she tried to be there for him, in Nate's best interests at brunch. She knew Bree is nothing short of her Desperate Housewives namesake – completely devious. And Nate, Blair loves the boy dearly, but he didn't exactly go out of his way to uncover what was beneath the surface very often.

The rest of the room blurs and all she can really see is Nate and Serena. The two people that matter the most, she thinks hazily.

Their conversation ends in a hug and Blair feels something bolt straight through her.

A feeling so familiar.

Jealously juxtaposed with fear.

Nate and Serena were going to get their time, just like she and Chuck are having theirs, and the most alarming part of it all is that it's so far from what she wants it all to be.

Chuck was right. He usually was. She still couldn't let go. After everything.

Nate shoves his hands in his pockets and asks Blair what the issue is.

_Everything. _She just thinks, ordering them another round.

* * *

_I think I'll pace my apartment a few times  
And fall asleep on the couch  
And wake up early to black and white re-runs  
That escaped from the mouth  
All I wanted was you  
All I wanted was you_

* * *

She's estranged by the irony that has become her life. Chuck was (is, she keeps reminding herself) her equal in so many ways, they shared a lot of personality traits and that is why they are supposed to be untouchable, something that cannot be diminished. She knows that in some ways, they are. They had an understanding of each other borne from just knowing why one of them would act the way they do.

But that was changing, more than she liked. They were supposed to be extraordinary together.

Now they were just another couple who break up to make up. Rinse and repeat.

Placing them against each other was inevitable. They were both so different; Blair was constantly comparing and contrasting and the more she reviews, the more she regrets.

The three decide to make somewhat of a night of it simply because they're drifting into one another's lives now, and it could be months before this opportunity grants itself again. She knows she should want Chuck here along with them but she doesn't. She can't bring herself to call him. Bitter as the last drink she sunk, flashes of how Chuck manipulated _her _won't stop playing in a loop through her head. At least her control was constructive. Last year, she felt like Chuck was destroying her, piece by piece. She thinks of how he randomly appeared, broken, like he had hit the bottom. He didn't. Gone the next morning.

Just like everything else she has; momentary.

Serena's loosens as the night continues, draping herself around Nate. They decide to get a car to Nate's place _just because _and Blair's just relishing being here with just them. She wants to regain that all back so desperately, the consistency, the security. But of course, she considers herself the most intelligent of all four of them. Sometimes that doesn't come through in her actions and if she's honest – which for a Waldorf is a revelation in herself – she lost herself the moment she agreed to let Chuck deposit her home that night. That's the moment whenever she watches the film in her head.

It's not the way Nate's hand will brush against hers randomly, like they're being physically thrown together once again. It's not the way he looks at her with a sadness so strong she knows what he's saying without a word. Truthfully, they're not saying a word to each other at all, what's left? They know each other and love each other and that's all they'll ever know.

It's the presence of Serena that scares Blair about this the most. She never previously needed her blond best friend to be around to lure Nate into her company, but now she did. They were past being comfortable with each other, so much so that Serena was now _required. _She knows she'll always call Nate her dear friend, but that's just not how it is. It's all or nothing, and now it's completely void. She feels the space where he's missing and when he asks her why she's not wearing the ruby ring, it's her cheeks that stain the closest thing to ruby.

"It's just part of the past, you know?" She replies clumsily.

It was Chuck who asked the same question the day after he finally declared himself which prompted her to remove it.

Now, the way Nate's looking at her, she wants it on now so much that it feels like her finger has vanished.

Serena cracks open a bottle of champagne and proceeds to make a toast to the future.

Blair clinks glasses with them and just wishes she could rewind two years.

* * *

_I could follow you to the beginning_

_just to relive the start  
And maybe then we'll remember to slow down  
To all of our favourite parts  
All I wanted was you_

* * *

Second chances are understandable, necessary. Third chances are ridiculous.

Blair's intelligent enough to know this. And Nate is too heartbroken from his second chance with her that a third time would probably kill him.

They stroll into his apartment and all Blair can see is her and Nate standing by the window, him asking her to move in.

So he grabs _Charade_, the one other Blair Waldorf cliché other than the obvious, Breakfast at Tiffany's (she adores Cary Grant) and she quirks an eyebrow.

"You left it over here, remember?" He responds sweetly.

_Yes. I remember all of it. _

She just nods whilst Serena raids the alcohol in the home, as if they weren't drunk enough as it is.

"It's basically you and Chuck had you been around in the sixties." Serena comments surly, as if she and Nate's darker, more devious counterparts are somehow less real, less valid. Blair can't exactly tell what Serena means – it's a rare event, but the girl's an enigma. There was no telling with her, and so you just had to let her _be. _

The one issue Blair has with this though is letting her _be _with Nate. It's not foreign to picture them as a couple. There was a time when that was all she thought about it – upon Serena's return it was all she could see.

"If me life was a movie," Blair begins (as if it already isn't), "I'd have Marlon Brando play Chuck, S."

And that's the end of that debate.

Nate just cracks open the case and slides the DVD inside.

Serena whines about her Carter situation and to be frank, Blair couldn't care less. She's, internally, constantly conflicted over her boys. The one that she's with and the one she's thinking about. She wants to redraw the lines Chuck somehow, managed to erase. She knows it's unhealthy – a constant need to define, explain and plan but that's just her.

How typical, that nothing in her life remotely resembles who Blair Waldorf truly is.

They just allow themselves to be fifteen years old again, all entangled in one another and Chuck wasn't invited. Of course, he texts Blair repeatedly and finds no reply. She doesn't know how to reply. Being with the boy is a constant battle, and tonight, she wants to rest.

She flops onto the expensive Italian leather couch and lies there, overhearing Nate and Serena's flirtatious banter and she can't shake the feeling of tragedy, even though she knows it's kind of trivial. She should be happy with Chuck; he has reformed just like he promised he would. It's not his fault though. It's the first time when she can't blame anyone but herself for her hurt.

Serena lands beside her friend and Blair's head just falls onto the blonde's shoulder.

"B?" Serena asks, clearly concerned, "What's wrong?"

It's the second time she's been asked that tonight and she only lets a half-truth escape this time.

"I'm just tired." She groans weakly, a lioness that has been injured, a thorn in her paw. "So tired, S."

Serena cradles her best friend. And she doesn't know which one is comforting her more, Nate's hand on her shoulder or that.

(She knows.)

Just after the movie, she's drifted off, whilst Nate and Serena have diverged somewhere else. It's the part of the night that is setting the tone for what's to come, she thinks, and maybe its better that her best friends are being so swift about it all, rather than prolonging the pain.

Nate is not with Serena.

She wakes from a dream and its four-zero-six in the morning and the first image she sees is Nate, sitting beside her on the couch in slumber. When she awakens, he follows soon after.

"Hey." Blair greets breathily.

Nate smiles lazily, "Hey."

They sit there in silence, just comfortable with each other.

"We haven't talked a lot for two people who've spent the night together." Blair comments, rubbing her eyes and causing her makeup to sprawl around her eyes.

"There's not a lot to discuss." He dismisses, "But _I do_ miss you, Blair." He adds, cushioning the harshness.

"You seem to discuss a lot with Serena –

"You seem to spend every minute with Chuck." He interrupts, incredulous.

She can't argue with him. She was consumed by Chuck, but it felt oddly hazardous. She could never be defined by a guy. At least, that's what she always had maintained.

"He doesn't define me." She defends quietly.

"I'll always know that," Nate smiles, "But you know how everyone else is quick to judge."

Blair bolts upright, pushing her hair back from her face, eye's brimming with urgency. "I need out of here, I didn't know how I even ended up here, at all. Chuck will –

"Chuck will understand, because he knows you. I know I'd get it. Blair, I'm sorry for –

She stands up, gathering her Jimmy Choos and she feels like she's about to burst into tears, it's all so _ridiculous. _

She takes his hand but it's nothing romantic. "I'm sorry. For being weird around you and Serena. I'm not comfortable with the possibility of it –

"Blair –

"I just, I know now. God, you always wondering, when we were sixteen why I was spending so much time with your best friend –

"Blair –

"I'm sorry –

"Stop it!" Nate commands, pulling her back down to the couch. His tone is full of frantic confusion. "Serena and I..." he trails off, unable to find an explanation. There is no explanation. He knows there was always potential for him and Serena, but he also knew there was a reason why it wouldn't be fulfilled.

"I wish you were still part of my life Nate. You're my friend." Blair murmurs, a tear sliding down her perfect porcelain cheek.

"That's why we can't. Blair, we were never just friends." He rectifies.

They clasp each other in a messy, awkward embrace, desperately clinging onto each other. Heaving breathing, they let their foreheads linger on one another's. Their both so hysterically scared for one another. They're terrified for each one of them, Nate, Blair, Chuck and Serena.

She cannot do this.

So she doesn't do anything, just lets it happen.

They let their lips collide in the worst and best kiss. It's quick, full of renewal and regret.

"We can't." Is all she says.

He nods in agreement and pulls away, but doesn't leave the scene. There was no point; they'd be constant in each other's lives.

"Do you wonder what would have been had we stayed together?" He asks, wanting, needing to know.

Their eyes lock fervidly.

"Third chances are kind of ridiculous, don't you think?" She asks in return.

"Why? What chance is Chuck on?" He replies, coming off more aggressive than he intended.

"Don't talk about Chuck unless you're willing to talk about Serena." Blair bites back.

Running a hand through his hair and sighing, Nate just takes his former place beside her.

"Why are we even arguing?" He asks, letting out a small chuckle. She thinks about remarking that this is what happens when love is thwarted, but she doesn't. Rather, she just softly giggles with him.

"The ruby ring?" He prompts, _really _wanting to know.

Silence takes over again and Blair feels the sense of the true ending between them. Tragedy always has a conclusion, a final act. This was theirs.

It strangely feels anti-climatic. Their relationship, their potential was always supposed to be so much more than this and it was meant to have a glorious ending, they should have died in each others arms at eighty-six or something, watching their children and their grand children be happy.

She doesn't think Chuck Bass would be eager to have a family, not at all. The boy could barely handle a committed relationship.

"Because it's a part of us. A part of you. And Nate, that part of my life doesn't belong to you anymore." She relents.

He just nods in realization.

"I have these things called beds, you know." He tells her.

"And right now Serena's in yours." She replies darkly. "Nate, I'm sorry for being strange tonight. I am. It's just being here with just you and S...it reminds me of how it happened and it reminds me of what _could _happen."

He gets up and gives her a smile, "That part of my life doesn't belong to you anymore." It's not a jibe at her pride. It's simply truthful. He patters down the hall and grabs her duvet and tucks it around her. She wants to cry at this point – it's their last act of affection.

"Stay." She says softly, "After all, Serena's had you the whole night."

There were no questions, no answers – not even a reply. She asked him to be there with her and he abided.

He slings one arm around her and Blair has the most peaceful night of sleep since the night of the Cotillion Ball, the night of their first time. Unusual, she knows because she was cheating with Chuck and was finally fulfilling something that was years in the making. Things aren't all that different now, she silently muses, relishing the warmth of his body.

She has never felt safer or more loved. This is home.

Maybe their ending was spectacular after all.

* * *

Morning arrives faster than Blair anticipated and there are several missed calls and text messages waiting to be read. She doesn't give a second glance to her phone.

Serena's fixing herself breakfast and slams the freezer door in order to wake both of them up, they bolt awake abruptly.

"You two." She simply states, smirking. It's not judgemental.

Blair gets straightens herself up, reeking of alcohol and Nate retreats to his bedroom. The two girls hug him and bid him goodbye. It will be the last night they spend with him for a long time, and it feels strangely like mourning.

"Part of me still wants you two to just get married. Don't tell my darling brother." Serena remarks, flipping her blonde hair as she hails a cab for them both. Blair just grins in response and tells her friend that they're too young to be nostalgic.

What Serena doesn't know, is a bigger part of Blair just wants to elope with Nate and marry him too.

No one will ever know again.


End file.
